


A Happy Family

by orphan_account



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-14
Updated: 2006-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan's mother sends him a video tape documenting a lost moment from his childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happy Family

  
**Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.  
-Leo Tolstoy, _Anna Karenina_**   


 

Your mother sends you the tape. You’re not sure why. You haven’t talked to Celeste much since you left Neptune. You’re trying to make a clean break, and you live in fear that she’ll spring a surprise visit on you.

At first, you tell yourself you won’t watch it. You know the experience will only hurt you. But in the end, you can’t resist your curiosity. Maybe you spent too long with Veronica, but the need for knowledge, however sordid, overcomes your scruples.

Curiosity killed the cat, hey?

The video opens with Dad’s voice. Happier, lighter, than you remember. Younger.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m happy to welcome you to an illustrious event. Today, Miss Lilly Kane turns five.”

The old familiar front staircase is across your screen. Home.

“We’re waiting for her to make her usual grand entrance. In the meantime…”

And there’s Mom, smiling, her hair longer and her bones less defined, holding up a red-nailed hand.

“Jake! Stop it!”

It’s hard for you now to imagine a time when your mother didn’t ignore the camera.

“This beautiful creature is the mother of the birthday girl, my lovely wife Celeste. She’s a little camera shy. But wait! Do I hear someone coming down the stairs?”

And there are, indeed, muffled sounds of feet running downwards. A little boy with tousled hair in a rumpled suit appears. You.

“It’s the birthday girl! Tell me, Lilly, how does it feel to finally be five?”

“Daddy! I’m not Lilly.” You watch him (you) put his (yours) hands on his (your) hips and pout. “I’m Duncan.”

“Of course! My handsome, brilliant son. Do you know what’s taking your sister so long?”

“Girl stuff.”

“Ah, I understand.” Jake’s voice is full of, well, there’s no other word for it but love. You put your fist in your mouth, bite your knuckles to keep from crying out.

Then, suddenly, there’s Lilly, skipping down the stairs, a vision in sparkling pink and a tutu.

“There’s my gorgeous birthday girl! Pose for the camera, Lilly!”

And Lilly poses, curtsying, blowing Daddy a kiss.

“Where’s the cake?” Duncan (you) asks.

“Presents first!” Lilly insists.

You stop the tape. You have to. Stop and eject, the tears running down your face.

So that’s how it all began. You belonged to a happy family once.

A broken sob escapes your throat. Lilly (Your Lilly but not your Lilly, whatever possessed you to name her after your dead? She’s not a car, not a new model.) wakes at the sound, starts her own string of wails. You know you have to calm down, to put your grief aside and hold her.

When you rock her, you picture your sister’s five-year-old face and sing.

“Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top---”

Lilly’s sixteen-year-old face, blood smeared across her forehead, her eyes big and dead.

“---down will come baby, cradle and all.”


End file.
